


Storytime

by Kholran



Series: Spin Me a Tale [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Blind Character, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slow Build, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kholran/pseuds/Kholran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil, CEO of the lucrative Greenwood, Inc, is still trying to adapt in the wake of the accident that left him both widowed and legally blind. When walking in the park one Saturday, he encounters a skilled storyteller named Bard, who is dealing with a loss of his own. It doesn't take the two of them long to strike up a friendship...and maybe more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storytime

“You need to get out of the house, Ada. It’s not good for you to lock yourself away.” Legolas’ familiar footsteps stopped in the doorway to his study.

“Are you my doctor or my therapist?”

“Neither. I’m your son and I worry about you. And before you say it, going to work doesn’t count as ‘getting out’. When’s the last time you went and did anything fun?”

“I..do fun things.” It didn’t sound convincing even to him.

“The world is a bigger place than our living room and your office, Ada.”

Thranduil sighed. He recognized the stubborn determination in Legolas’ voice. “I’m not getting a choice in this, am I?”

“Nope. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no. I’d hate to interrupt your Saturday video games, or your Netflix marathon, or whatever it is you kids do in your spare time these days.” He could almost hear the eyeroll he got in response. “Thai for dinner? I can pick some up on my way home.”

“Sounds good. Get extra, Tauriel’s coming over.”

“Is that why you want me gone?”

“You know we’re just friends. If anything changes, you’ll be the first to know. Apart from her, that is.”

“Good. All right, I’ll go.” He grudgingly pushed himself out of his chair, fingers brushing along the desk’s surface as he walked around it. His son’s footsteps led the way down the hall to the front door, and he found his coat and scarf hanging right where he’d left them.

“Don’t forget your phone this time. If you’re not home by dinner and you haven’t called, I’ll send the police after you.”

“It was one time.”

“One too many. Call me if you need to. I love you, now get out.”

~*~

Thranduil adjusted his scarf and then shoved his free hand into his coat pocket to keep it warm. The other held a cup of steaming coffee, half gone already. He wasn’t exactly sure why he’d seen fit to walk the park when it was this cold.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. It was familiar territory, which allowed him to wander without really thinking about it. And he was appreciating the fresh air, even if he’d deny it later. The wide paths were busy enough despite the weather, and Thranduil was careful not to bump into anyone as he turned down toward the park’s interior.

The playground was this way, he recalled. Legolas used to love going there after school. Thranduil used to swear he was part squirrel, with the way he would scurry up the jungle gym and then swing his way across the monkey bars faster than kids twice his age. He’d been fearless, even then.

Smiling to himself at the memory, Thranduil walked a bit further before finding an empty bench and lowering himself onto it. The sun had broken through the clouds, and the warming effect of being in a direct ray was almost pleasant. Combined with his remaining coffee, he was comfortable enough to sit for a while.

That was when he heard it. The voice was loud enough to carry over the other conversations going on in the area, and for a moment, Thranduil thought it was just another jerk talking too loudly on their phone. The voice was too animated, too enthusiastic for that, though, and Thranduil found himself listening intently to what it was saying.

“And that was when the dragon came swooping in, breathing fire! He bellowed and roared and stomped his feet, but the knight wasn’t afraid. He raised his silver sword and looked the dragon right in the eye. ‘Begone, foul beast!’ he cried, ‘or I will take your head!’”

There was a smattering of gasps and giggles and cheers, and Thranduil realized that the voice had an audience beyond him- mostly children by the sound of it. A storyteller, he realized. He wondered vaguely if this was something new the city had set up. There hadn’t been anything of the sort when Legolas was young enough to appreciate it.

_You say that as if you’re not hanging on his every word_ , his inner monologue provided.

Thranduil couldn’t deny it. It was a simple enough tale, but the way it was presented was utterly fascinating. Every character had its own voice, right down to the villainous dragon. Thranduil found it nothing short of masterful, and he remained seated where he was until the very end, even though the sun had disappeared and his coffee was gone and he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

It was almost a disappointment when the story ended and the lilting voice stopped speaking. In the din that followed as the children all rushed off to the playground again, Thranduil barely caught that voice promising to be back the following weekend. He made a note to be available too, and then stood.

There was a part of him that wanted to try and follow the source of the voice, if only to offer his praise. Thranduil had thought storytelling was a lost art, but he was clearly mistaken, and he wanted to let such a masterful artist know that his skill was appreciated. A quick check of the time on his phone told him it would have to wait. Trying to figure out where he’d gone would take longer than Thranduil had. Instead, he found a trash bin for his empty cup, and then started back the way he’d come. He’d promised his son dinner, and he really didn’t want to have to go home under police escort. Again.


End file.
